


A Poet as Well, Misthios?

by britt_ishdisaster



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Body Worship, Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, I'm obsessed with Soft!Kassandra, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-12 23:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britt_ishdisaster/pseuds/britt_ishdisaster
Summary: The DLC doesn't exist.Kassandra sneakily contributes a romantic soliloquy to a play and tries to use it to seduce her wife, Kyra. It works and they have soft af sex.





	A Poet as Well, Misthios?

**Author's Note:**

> In my post-game head canon, Kyra forgives Kassandra and they live happily ever after on Mykonos. Barnabas eventually retires from sailing and uses his excellent storytelling capabilities to become a playwright. We all know Kassandra has a way with words/the ladies and I thought this was a fun way to dig into that a little more.

A poet, misthios?

 

“I don’t see why we have to go to all of these plays,” Kassandra grumbled to herself as Kyra finished dressing.

“Barnabas is your friend! He’s saved your ass many times, we can go watch his plays. Besides, he’s actually quite talented. They’re enjoyable performances.”

“I’m a mercenary, I wouldn’t know.”

“They embody the human experience! Learn to appreciate beauty when it’s in front of you. Besides,” she drew out the word, a teasing glint in her eyes, “I led a rebel army and overthrew the Athenians’ control of the Delian Islands, and I can appreciate a well-written play. You’re just cranky.”

“I seem to recall my help being invaluable in that rebellion,” Kassandra smirked, “But for you, I will try, my love.” She began to pull her breastplate over her tunic when Kyra stopped her.

“No armor! We’re watching from our balcony, for gods’ sake.” Kyra had insisted on their new home together having a close balcony view of the main theater space in Mykonos City, an effective compromise since Kassandra was not comfortable in crowds and Kyra enjoyed the arts.

“Misthios, remember?” Kassandra pouted, but pulled off the armor nonetheless. Kyra stepped close, reaching up to press a quick kiss to the taller woman’s lips, and slowly drew her hands down Kassandra’s muscular, scarred arms, taking the breastplate from her hands and placing it back in the storage chest in the corner.

“You’re not going to complain about a sword, too, are you?”

“Hm.” Kyra paused, and turned with a soft, pleading smile, “dagger? You’re not as comfortable to cuddle with when you’re armed.” She knew how much the surprisingly tender mercenary enjoyed physical closeness in spite of her dangerous life, the result of spending much of her youth and early adult years without close family or friends. Kyra was humbled that Kassandra trusted her enough to let her be the person she let her guard down for, both literally and metaphorically.

“Your wish, my command, Kyra.” The women smiled at each other, and Kyra picked up an amphora of wine to take to their balcony. Kassandra’s eyes followed swaying hips appreciatively, mindlessly tying her dagger to her belt as she followed her love up the stairs.

Kyra poured cups of wine for them both as Kassandra positioned their kline towards the theatre and then draped herself across it, long legs extended, using the arm as a backrest. Kyra delicately positioned herself between Kassandra’s legs and leaned back to cuddle into Kassandra’s chest. Kassandra immediately wrapped her arms around her lover and nuzzled into her neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell nice.”

“You say that all the time,” Kyra laughed, and turned to press a quick kiss to Kassandra’s head. She felt the older woman shrug and say,

“Well, it’s true. Look, your beloved play is starting.”

Soon, Kyra was leaned forward, enraptured by the story unfolding below. Even Kassandra could tell that her ship’s captain was a talented storyteller, captivating the audience with a tale of romance, battle, and piracy. It sounded a lot like Kassandra’s brief partnership with the pirate Xenia, had Kassandra been an egotistical Spartan male, but it was a good story nonetheless. Even so, she couldn’t focus on the play completely. She idly braided parts of Kyra’s hair, and then, as if possessed, she leaned forward while brushing the strap of Kyra’s chiton off of her shoulder. She began pressing soft kisses along tan skin, moving slowly from her shoulder, up her neck, and back along the path her lips had taken originally. At the point where Kyra’s neck gracefully sloped into the firm, well-built muscles of her shoulder, Kassandra teasingly bit into flesh—not hard enough to mark, but enough to send a shiver down Kyra’s spine that turned into a soft flame in the depths of her belly.

“You’re not even paying attention!” Kyra whispered, the hint of annoyance in her voice made less concerning by the catch Kassandra could hear in her throat, a clear sign that Kyra was enjoying the attention she lavished on her.

“You told me to appreciate beauty when it’s in front of me.” Kassandra murmured, her lips suddenly behind Kyra’s ear.

“You are incorrigible.” Kyra laughed, and leaned back into Kassandra’s arms again.

“Yes, but you like it.” Kassandra hummed, happy to pull her wife closer to her chest and watch her react to the story unfolding below them. Some time passed, and the hero began to profess his love for a woman he encountered in his travels.

“Beautiful Agatha,” he began, “envy of Aphrodite.”

To Kyra’s surprise, Kassandra also began to recite the soliloquy.

“Beautiful Kyra, envy of Aphrodite.

Her stature is carved from marble,

Her eyes arrest me; I cannot move, I cannot speak,

But need compels me move.

Need to know her skin like my own,” Kassandra whispered, lightly tracing her fingertips on Kyra’s thigh, teasing the hem of her chiton.

“Need to make a home in soft hollow of her throat, to rest with her.

Need to lose myself in waterfalls of her hair,” Kassandra gently twisted her other hand in Kyra’s hair.

“Kass-“ Kyra began to turn to face the misthios, but Kassandra firmly, yet softly, turned her to face the play once more.

“Uh-uh. Appreciate the beauty in front of you, remember?” Kassandra whispered wickedly. The actor began to speak again, and Kassandra with him.

“Yes, she is arresting—perhaps the goddess in flesh.

But desire compels me try.

Desire to drink, to get drunk on red wine lips.

Desire to feel her body shudder with my own.” Taking her hand from Kyra’s hair, Kassandra encircled the slight woman with her arms and nipped at her earlobe. She grinned at the shivers that raced down Kyra’s spine, and moved to whisper in her other ear.

“Desire to love her, and please her, forever.

Ah, beautiful Kyra,

Envy of Aphrodite,

You have enraptured me.” Kassandra finished the soliloquy somewhat sheepishly, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment that she’d perhaps been _too_ cheesy to recite Barnabas’s hero’s lines. As the actor was embraced by his Agatha to the cheering of the crowd, actors dressed as pirates raced onto the stage to continue the tale.

On the balcony, Kyra finally broke Kassandra’s grip around her waist and turned away from the play to kiss Kassandra hungrily. She pulled the tie from the end of the mercenary’s signature braid and tangled one hand into falling hair, as her other hand fell to Kassandra’s waist. She briefly registered the thought that she’d picked the side without the dagger, but was quickly too caught up in the delightful feeling of Kassandra pulling her close by her hips and faintly tracing her lips with her tongue. Rather than give in to the unspoken request, Kyra pulled back slightly. Kassandra visibly pouted, an unexpected look for the stern woman.

“Kass, if you don’t take me to bed at this very moment, you will sleep here on the roof without me.” Kyra growled in a tone that could get Kassandra to do just about anything. Still, Kassandra wouldn’t go down without a bit of resistance.

“But what will we tell Barnabas about his play if we don’t watch till the end?” She teased as she stood, sliding her hands down Kyra’s back and ass, lifting her and moving towards the door. Kyra wrapped her legs around Kassandra’s waist as she walked.

“Whatever you want. Tell him it was magnificent. Or that it got you laid, if you’re feeling honest.” Kyra murmured between planting kisses on Kassandra’s mouth and neck. Kassandra chuckled deep in her throat, gasping slightly in surprise as Kyra bit down hard on her collar bone, sucking the skin into her mouth, and soothing the sting with her tongue. Finally reaching their room, Kassandra gently laid her lover on the bed and straightened up to remove her belt and dagger. Kyra pulled her back down for a lingering kiss as soon as she’d finished, prompting another low laugh from the Spartan above her.

“Someone is incredibly worked up this evening.”

“I like poetry, and it’s very unfair of you to whisper it in my ear and touch me like you do while I’m trying to watch our friend’s play.”

“Well, let me make it up to you, beautiful.” Kassandra spoke seriously now, all teasing gone from her voice and replaced with a husking sound that flowed from Kyra’s ears and settled deep in her belly, stoking the flame that had been growing since the beginning of the evening.

“You’d better.” Kyra tried to maintain her stern, irritated demeanor but instead heard her voice crack as she watched her wife strip out of her tunic before reaching over to unclasp the chiton she’d been playing with earlier. Callused fingers pull the fabric down Kyra’s body reverently and she could feel Kassandra’s gaze burning into every inch of revealed skin. The dress is tossed to the floor as Kassandra lifts her eyes to meet Kyra’s, two pairs of amber eyes dark with desire. Kyra drinks in Kassandra’s powerful, battle-scarred body stretching up and settling over her.

Kyra isn’t weak, or soft, in any sense, but Kassandra’s life had made her hard in many ways. Watching her toss brutes out of the tavern with little effort, or lift broken carts away from the road made Kyra ache to feel that powerful body above her, breaking her apart. Kassandra knew this and was more than happy to indulge Kyra’s desires in many creative ways. She quite enjoys  it, to be honest, using her physicality to bring pleasure instead of fear or pain. But sometimes when the work is slow and Kassandra is home, uninjured and relaxed, she wants Kyra like this: slow, gentle, and loving. She needs to shed the job of misthios, the title of Eagle-Bearer, completely and she can only do so in their bed. Kassandra leans down to capture Kyra’s lips in a long, lazy kiss, tongues dancing in no real search for dominance, and when they pull apart for air, Kyra can see the shift happen: the furrows between Kassandra’s eyes have relaxed, the hard press of her lips is gone, and her body softens, settling a little firmer on the smaller woman beneath her. Now, she’s not Spartan, not a misthios, not a savior. Just Kassandra.

“You are the most exquisite being I’ve ever seen,” Kassandra murmured against her lips. Kyra flushed, always taken aback by the intensity of Kassandra’s desire for her, and squirms slightly beneath her.

“Remind me to put you in front of a mirror sometime.” She laughed, and Kassandra slowly rocked her hips into her in response, cutting her off with the jolt of heat and need it sent through her body.

“Can’t you just take the compliment?”

“It’s just—you’re you, and sometimes I can’t believe I’m the person you choose to come home to.”

“Ágape mou, I’m the one who’s lucky to come home to you.” Kassandra smiled at her, a soft thing reserved only for their private moments, and Kyra smiled back.

“I love you. Now, please, put that silver tongue of yours to good use before I send you to sleep on the roof anyway.”

“In good time.” Kassandra loves to give Kyra whatever she wants, but she won’t be swayed tonight. She was determined to worship her wife for as long as possible—before Kyra started throwing knives again, at least. Which might not be long, considering all the teasing she’d already done.

Kassandra dips down to give Kyra one more kiss on her lips before trailing her tongue along Kyra’s jaw, down her neck, until she reaches the hollow of her throat. Biting down with just enough pressure to make Kyra hiss in pain and pleasure, Kassandra lavishes attention on her throat until tan skin begins to blossom with a purple bruise. She dusts kisses across sharp collarbones, across the top of Kyra’s full, perfect breasts before pulling away the band of cloth around her chest and taking a nipple into her mouth. She makes eye contact with Kyra as she begins to suck on the soft flesh and Kyra lets out a loud moan. Her hand flies to the back of Kassandra’s head, pushing her closer to her chest. Kyra can feel Kassandra’s smile against her skin, and gasps at the light scraping of  teeth around the hardening point. Her hands begin to wander, one mimicking the actions of her mouth on Kyra’s other breast, and the other tracing delicate patterns on the skin of her sides and stomach. Eventually, Kyra begins to squirm and whimper underneath her so Kassandra plants a line of open mouthed kisses across her chest, tasting the faint sheen of sweat brought on by the evening’s warmth and Kassandra’s teasing.

“You are just so fucking beautiful,” she murmurs before taking the other nipple into her mouth and beginning her ministrations anew. A few minutes later (or hours, in Kyra’s mind) she seems satisfied with the state of Kyra’s breasts and the collection of love bites she’d left on them, so she kisses her way down Kyra’s abdomen, nipping here and there to watch the muscles jump and twitch. Kyra’s body was only just softer than Kassandra’s, a little more so now than it was when they met, thanks to the end of the rebellion, but Kassandra loved the physical evidence of Kyra’s life no longer being a fight for survival. She wanted her to be comfortable, secure, and well-taken care of.

By the time Kassandra reaches her navel, Kyra is desperately trying to buck her hips up into Kassandra in search of friction. Kassandra peels off her small clothes, inhaling the warm scent of arousal. She blows a cool stream of air across Kyra’s heated center as she shifts down onto her stomach, placing Kyra’s legs over her shoulders. Kyra whines, much to her own embarrassment and Kassandra’s amusement, and Kassandra places a kiss on both of her inner thighs in response.

“I’ve got you. Let me make you feel good.”

“I think I asked for than an hour ag-OH. Fuck.” Kyra retorts, but is interrupted by Kassandra dragging her tongue up the length of her center, teasing her clit with the faintest amount of pressure. Kyra’s hand finds the back of her head again as she repeats the movement a few times, enjoying the tang of Kyra’s wetness, before she focuses her tongue on her clit  in a pattern that she knows will bring Kyra to an incredible climax. Using firm, consistent pressure, Kassandra flicks her tongue against the sensitive bundle of  nerves a few times before sucking it into her mouth and humming against it. Kyra’s hips jerk against the arm holding them against the bed, Kassandra giving her enough room to set a rhythm that she follows with the same pattern from before.

Soon, Kyra is gasping above her, thighs shaking around her ears. Kassandra makes eye contact again as she sucks hard on the clit in her mouth, flicking over it with her tongue. Rather than let go and repeat the pattern again, she continues sucking until Kyra’s thighs clamp against her head and she moans Kassandra’s name through her release. Kassandra keeps working on her clit to draw out her orgasm as long as possible, gently slowing as Kyra’s legs begin to relax and her chest heaves in a large breath. After several long moments, Kyra tugs at Kassandra’s hair in a “come here” movement, but Kassandra shakes her head and begins to  clean up the wetness left behind. Despite her diligent efforts to be gentle, she brings Kyra to another, smaller orgasm quickly, and only then is she satisfied enough to kiss her way  back up Kyra’s relaxed body before finally falling into the deep kiss Kyra has waiting for her. It’s sloppy, but delightfully affectionate, and Kyra moans softly at the taste of her arousal on her wife’s lips and tongue. Breaking away, Kassandra lays down beside her, pulling the smaller woman to snuggle into her side.

“So, was that worth waiting for?” She sounds pleased with herself, and Kyra swats at her stomach in response.

“Give me a few minutes to rest and I’ll show you how worth it it was, you smug bastard.” Kassandra laughs, a deep rumbling kind of sound that Kyra feels with her head pressed into Kassandra’s chest.

“It’s fine, my love, go to sleep. This was for you.” She presses a soft kiss to Kyra’s hair, certain she’s already dozing off, but Kyra mumbles against her.

“I’m gonna be really mad at you for taking care of yourself in the morning,” and then she’s asleep. Kassandra chuckles again, careful not to disturb her, and soon falls asleep as well.

Kassandra wakes sometime in the night, the theatre below their home finally quiet, and moonlight shimmering through the open window. She quietly extracts herself from Kyra’s arms to shift her under the blankets, the night air cooler than expected due to an approaching storm Kassandra could smell. Kyra grumbles softly as she’s moved, and then wakes as Kassandra bumps against the sword by the head of the bed, years of living on the run making her a light sleeper.

“It’s nothing, Kyra. Just a bit cool.” Kyra huffs softly, snuggling back into the bed. As Kassandra climbs back in beside her, she speaks.

“Wait, how did you know all the words to that speech?”

“You’re asking now?”

“I was a little preoccupied with your teasing at the time.” Kassandra laughs, and draws Kyra in to face her.

“Barnabas and I were  drinking the other night and he mentioned he couldn’t finish this one part because he and Iola were fighting. He was completely wasted and muttering something about the muse siding with Iola. I sent the poor sod off to bed and finished it for him.”

“That was nice of you. And incredibly surprising.”

“Did you like it?”

“Obviously,” she teased, “do you have any more surprise poems hidden up those sleeves?”

“Perhaps,” Kassandra drawled, tugging  Kyra into a quick kiss. She breaks them apart before Kyra can get any ideas, “but those will have to wait for another day, my muse.” Kyra smiles, sleepy and adoring, before tucking her head under Kassandra’s chin as they slowly drift back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Still new at writing smutty stuff so I hope this doesn't suck, but thank you for reading!


End file.
